


Screen (my motives are insane)

by Skeletaleyes



Series: Holding on to you [1]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: BASED ON THE MOVIE TRON, DIGITAL JAZZ MAN, Eventual Smut, GOES SLOW AT FIRST, M/M, i might add other bands, i really love that movie I suggest listening to the soundtrack while reading this, jennas in here but that's Tyler's best friend, not just like the movie but similar, not sure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:51:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7090330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeletaleyes/pseuds/Skeletaleyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh can't explain his feeling of loss or why he wants to save a boy he met in an arcade game. Or why his brown eyes remind him of something better in life, something he saw in a dream or a dream of a dream. But It feels like coming home. </p>
<p>Tyler is controlled by what he does based on blurryface, mainly because blurry has taken over the digital grid and searches for Tyler constantly in order to kill him. Despite the fact that Tyler is the one who created him. </p>
<p>A joshler AU based on the movie Tron. Because why not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screen (my motives are insane)

This is a thing josh did a lot. skating, that is. the time of day really didn't matter. lots of things didn't matter to josh like the fact that he could get mugged, hit by a car, or turn the wrong way and break his arm trying to catch himself and no one would be there to help him to the hospital and honestly he didn't really realize when this lack of concern came to be so strong. 

With school out for summer break and no job, josh had a lot of free time to do whatever the hell he pleased and when he pleased. that most likely meant skating to Jansson Park at 4 am listening to rage against the machine through his old headphones that annoyingly fall out at inconvenient times. 

The sounds of his wheels turning against the pavement and the quiet noise of the loud crickets helped with the bad thoughts that seem to crawl their way into his mind at this time every night.  
Particularly those about him not wanting to be alive or of how absolutely lonely he is, so lonely that these thoughts didn't really scare him anymore, they became a regular occurrence in his daily routine because no one was around to reassure him that 'hey it's okay I'm here for you' or 'it's not as bad as it seems, everything gets better'. 

Instead he got loud music, penny boards and creepy bridges to occupy him when those thoughts don't completely consume him. Maybe they never really left, always there, looming in the corner of his conscience. 

Josh wasn't always like this though.

And the thing is, he doesn't remember even becoming the person he is now just like his lack of fucks given to his wellbeing. what he does remember is the few good days he had as a kid playing basketball with his friends or going down to the old arcade on Richards street. laughing about silly things and eating to much ice cream. they were just 10 or 11 years old without a care in the world but how much playing time they could get in on their favorite game before their parents made them go outside for 'fresh air'. but his friends slowly faded just as he did. All of them off to new friend groups that saw josh as 'odd', or flat out just giving up on Josh's mood swings. he couldn't really blame them, he knew that he would stare off into space dreaming of impossible things or how his taste in music had gotten raw and sad.

But now, alone, he was propping his board up on the old wooden bridge, hopping up on the side so that his feet hung over the edge and the wind caught his newly dyed hair. 

Josh did this a lot.

The bridge became a safe haven at times like these, he would come here to think or to cry. or to be angry. josh was angry for a few different reasons, being that he had no reason to cry other than the fact that he was unexplainably sad, and that he didn't have anyone to confide in. his parents didn't beat him, didn't yell or scream at him for things he had no control over, instead they ignored him or asked him to clean up the house even though he's rarely home to dirty it up. josh took blame for scaring people away from him, but that didn't mean he liked it or even meant to. 

Breathing in and out and squinting his eyes to make out the old arcade sign in the distance, blocked by a couple trees, he began to shiver a little. why the building had yet to be torn down was a curiosity to most people that lived here. his guess was that it had to much value with the owners, they had lost a son sometime a couple of years ago when josh was still in the 'good ol' days'. it was always so very quiet this time of night, josh felt as though he could open his skull and let his mind spill out and fill up the silence like water in a bathtub or smoke in a crowded room. 

Looking down at where he had been running his hand along the bark of the bridge josh felt an engraving. it said 'tyler was NOT here'. giggling he pulled out his rusty pocket knife and begin to carve 'neither was josh'. it seemed as if someone else had the same humor as him. he could guess all night at how old the carving was and if they were the same age and maybe in need of company but the idea fell away like rusted paint. as he was finishing his name he felt the sun begin to rise behind him, felt the warmth of the first light and the birds beginning to chirp and the houses creaking to life. the arcade stayed silent, dark and empty. usually the sun wouldn't be up for a few more hours but this was summer, the days would be so long that josh thought he'd never get to enjoy the safety of the night ever again. 

Sighing he slung his board over his shoulder, pocketing his knife, and trudged home. his feet hitting the pavement, avoiding holes in the ground and choosing to take the long way home through the small patch of forest. josh has a small blur of a memory of a boy sitting on one of the soft trunks of a big tree, surrounded by moss and white flowers. the boy was singing or humming, but that's all that he remembers of it. he couldn't have been older than 8 when it happened. 

And he doesn't understand why that memory has never left him either. 

Reaching the edge of the tree line, josh tries to hum the melody in his mind, not knowing that it was the one from so long ago that the brown haired boy let him hear and if he had kept up with the time better he would have known that his dad would be up and leaving for work by the time he got to his house. but he didn't, and now he was standing in the middle of the living room getting asked where he has been and why he was out so early. 

His parents weren't stupid. 

They could see all of these changes in mood and activities better than josh did, they just chose not to mention it in fear of him becoming worse. josh, not wanting to argue, signed and told his greying father that he went to the park because he couldn't sleep and that he was sorry. his parents could see the bags under his eyes and the red lthat lined them, noticed the way he carries himself with defeat, but could do nothing to help him. instead they thought it would be best if they grounded him quickly so that josh would get to bed quicker before he passed out. 

"I need you to clean the basement out this summer, you can start later today as punishment" his father said, running his hands through his balding hair. josh could hear his mother coming down the stairs and thought it best to just agree and escape to his room as quickly as possible before she got to interrogate him. so he did. 

Dropping his skate board off at the end of his bed and quietly closing his door behind him he picked off his shirt and shoes and slipped into bed. hearing his dad leave for work, his mother cooking herself breakfast and the tune in his head, he went to sleep. 

josh did this a lot.

What he didn't know was that it would be the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a test run, let me know if you like it.


End file.
